I found the words hiding.
Curled between my toes,
Itching with every step.
They are the poems.
Poems hiding in corners of mouths
Pulled upwards in a smirk.
Drifting through fingers
Of pleading hands.
Fingers running rough,
Feeling the raised edges
Of blank canvas
And listening to whispers
Of words indiscernible
But still I listen,
Blessed by ignorance,
Blessed by things I can't understand,
While my strained ears
Line thick with perfect words.
Curled between my toes,
Itching with every step.
They are the poems.
Poems hiding in corners of mouths
Pulled upwards in a smirk.
Drifting through fingers
Of pleading hands.
Fingers running rough,
Feeling the raised edges
Of blank canvas
And listening to whispers
Of words indiscernible
But still I listen,
Blessed by ignorance,
Blessed by things I can't understand,
While my strained ears
Line thick with perfect words.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
AngelsKiss
LittleBritt
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